Volume One, Chapter One: The Ninth Prince, Loyal to a Fault

Canglan Realm, Dayu Dynasty.

In the imperial capital, inside the grand Hall of Supreme Harmony, all the high officials stood in solemn silence.

“Unfilial son! You conspired to rebel and even attempted to murder Noble Consort Ling. Do you admit your crimes?”

“Admit what crime? I know nothing of it!”

Emperor Qingli, draped in a dragon-embroidered robe, sat upright upon the dragon throne, his voice thunderous and severe.

In the center of the hall stood the Ninth Prince, Prince Yan, Ye Chen, drenched in blood, hurling curses in defiant rage, causing the officials to murmur in shock. None could fathom how the once gentle and refined Ninth Prince had become like this.

At this moment, Ye Chen clutched his head in agony, muttering curses.

“Idiot! You gave her your heart, yet she became your father’s woman. Dogs that grovel for love never come to a good end!”

As torrents of memory flooded his mind, the Ye Chen standing here was no longer the Ye Chen of the Canglan Realm, but Ye Chen of Blue Star Huaxia, heir to a lineage of traditional medicine. Just moments ago, he had been murdered, his throat slit by a disgruntled patient.

How absurd! I saved countless lives in my time, yet could not save myself, and now I awaken in the body of this miserable wretch.

“Outrageous son! With evidence and witnesses in hand, you dare spew filth and attempt to defend yourself?”

Emperor Qingli, a second-rank martial master, bellowed with fury, a crushing martial aura bearing down on Ye Chen.

Blood spurted from Ye Chen’s lips, his bones creaking under the pressure. Yet, undaunted, he straightened his back and met the emperor’s gaze with a wild, rebellious grin.

The fury of the body’s former owner at his death, mingled with Ye Chen’s own bitter resentment at dying to a madman’s blade, ignited in a single explosive moment.

“Spit! Who’s defending himself? If I didn’t commit the crime, why should I confess to it?”

In his memories, the original owner was a hopeless fool for love—a willing victim. Not only had he brought disaster upon his own mother, Empress Chun Yuan, by letting wolves into the house, but he’d also been framed for treason.

Five years ago, the original owner was Emperor Qingli’s most favored son, until a strange illness damaged his meridians and left him with little time to live. The emperor summoned Ling Jiutian, head of the Divine Healers Sect, to treat him.

Ling Aoxue accompanied her father into the palace, and the original owner fell in love with her at first sight.

Though his illness was cured, the loss of his cultivation meant he had to rely on daily medicine just to survive.

Thus, Ling Aoxue became the one to deliver his medicine, and to please her, the prince used his status to shower the Divine Healers Sect with favor. Under his patronage, the obscure sect quickly rose to prominence.

But the good times were short-lived. With his abilities gone, he not only lost Ling Aoxue’s regard but also fell from his father’s favor.

At first, he believed that if he only continued to treat Ling Aoxue well, she would return his affection. That illusion shattered a year ago, when Emperor Qingli was suddenly struck by grave illness and Ling Aoxue was summoned to his bedchamber to treat him. Three days later, Ling Aoxue emerged, and from that moment, all contact with Ye Chen ceased.

Rumors soon spread through the harem that the emperor had taken Ling Aoxue as his consort and would soon make her a noble wife.

“Unfilial son! With all the evidence before us, do you truly believe I would falsely accuse you?” Emperor Qingli, incensed, raised his hand, unleashing an overwhelming martial force.

Ye Chen felt his bones about to shatter, his flesh on the verge of collapse, but he stood firm, refusing to yield.

“Hahaha…”

Despite the pain, Ye Chen let out a harsh, maniacal laugh. “Whether it’s a false accusation or not, Father, you know better than anyone!”

The officials exchanged anxious glances. They all understood that a prince with no cultivation could never succeed in treason. A crippled prince was no threat at all.

What was more, they all saw through Emperor Qingli’s intent: using a fabricated charge of rebellion to justify cutting down Ye Chen and, in doing so, striking at his maternal grandfather—Duke Wu, Zhao Tai—one of the three vassal kings of the Dayu Dynasty.

Duke Wu, Zhao Tai, held sway over the western borderlands of Longxi, commanding an army of hundreds of thousands and standing as a pillar of the realm for three reigns—a threat to imperial power.

To consolidate his rule, Emperor Qingli had begun to strip the vassal kings of power. In the past two years, he’d already subdued two of the three.

In the eyes of the court, accusing Ye Chen of treason was merely a prelude to moving against Duke Wu.

After all, if Ye Chen truly meant to rebel, he would never be so foolish as to hide imperial robes in his own residence. The emperor surely understood this. Thus, the true hand behind this conspiracy was none other than Emperor Qingli himself.

“Insolent wretch! I have shown you patience again and again, yet you remain obstinate and impenitent!”

Emperor Qingli, trembling with rage, glared at Ye Chen in fury. “Guards! Break this traitor’s legs for me!”

“Wait!”

At that moment, Ling Aoxue entered the Hall of Supreme Harmony, instantly drawing every gaze.

Her flowing robes lent her a noble grace, her beauty dazzling beyond compare.

“Your Majesty, Prince Yan believed the rumors and suspected me of poisoning the Empress, which is why he sought my life. But even a tiger does not eat its cubs. Though Prince Yan may have been led astray, he is still your son!”

“I can forgive him, and I beg Your Majesty to spare him this once.”

As she spoke, Ling Aoxue knelt, her voice trembling with feigned sobs.

Ye Chen’s heart clenched. Ling Aoxue’s plea, on the surface a defense, was in truth an attempt to solidify all charges against him.

Emperor Qingli descended from the throne, gently taking Ling Aoxue’s hand in an open display of favor.

“Yesterday, you went to the prison to counsel this child. Had you not been discovered in time, who knows what might have happened? I truly cannot forgive him!”

Seeing Ling Aoxue kneel, the emperor lovingly helped her up.

“So be it! For your sake, I will spare this unfilial son—for now!”

“Traitor! Are you not going to apologize to Noble Consort Ling at once?”

Ye Chen let out a bitter laugh. “Dream on if you want me to apologize to my mother’s murderer!”

The original owner was truly pitiful, becoming a hollow shell after Ling Aoxue withdrew from his life.

Half a year ago, after Empress Chun Yuan caught a cold, he invited Ling Aoxue to treat her. Ling Aoxue prescribed medicine and left without seeing him.

Unexpectedly, days later, the Empress died in agony after taking the medicine, her death gruesome and terrifying.

At the time, the prince was still scheming how to win Ling Aoxue’s favor, only to hear the rumor that the Empress had been poisoned by her.

“Your mother died of grave illness, yet you, blind and foolish, choose to believe slander and cast baseless accusations!” Emperor Qingli thundered, veins bulging on his brow, his martial aura suppressing all within the hall.

“You must be taught a lesson! Guards, take this traitor away and give him a hundred strokes of the court staff!”

At these words, the officials looked at one another in alarm. Even a third-rank martial master would be crippled by such a punishment. For Ye Chen, who had no cultivation, it would mean certain death.

“Your Majesty, Prince Yan is the late Empress’s only son, his body frail by nature. You must not subject him to such punishment!”

At last, someone could bear it no longer and stepped forward. It was none other than the grand master of Confucianism and imperial tutor, Duke Du Lingfu.

Du Lingfu, a half-saint of the Confucian first rank, was Ye Chen’s mentor. He did not believe Ye Chen could commit such treason, convinced it was all a terrible misunderstanding.

“Moreover, I believe in Prince Yan. He would never commit such an atrocity.”

Emperor Qingli, prepared to explode with anger, reconsidered when he saw it was Du Lingfu, the leading civil official, and forced himself to show restraint.

Quietly, he gave Ling Aoxue’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Ling Aoxue took the cue, dropping to her knees and weeping as she pleaded before the emperor.

“Your Majesty, Grand Tutor Du is right. According to the ancestral rules of the imperial family, only the Empress’s son can become Crown Prince. The Ninth Prince is the Empress’s sole heir—he is the rightful successor. How could we subject him to such punishment?”

The officials paused, pondering the implications of Ling Aoxue’s words, their expressions growing strange. None could deny the cunning of Noble Consort Ling.

Emperor Qingli glared at Ye Chen, his gaze filled with disappointment and anger.

“Such a traitorous son, so utterly lacking in virtue, and a useless cripple at that—I could never make him Crown Prince!”